Monday, August 31, 2009

As an activity to get my mind off fire clean-up, I attended a wonderful event in Mercer County on Saturday. The newly formed Arts Council of Mercer County held its first ever ArtVenture for all artists in our community - painters, sketch artists, writers, photographers, musicians, dancers, etc. The goal of an ArtVenture is to expose all artists to the same environment or inspiration and see what type of art is created.

We meet at Terrapin Hill Farm - a 375-acre organic working, sustainable farm in Mercer County - for a morning trip to inspire our creativity. For me, I was able to write a long poem about the farm, do some sketching of local fauna and take numerous photos, which I will use to help illustrate my poem. At our next meeting, we will bring in our finished products to share with everyone.

Even though the morning started out as gray, overcast and rainy, this was the perfect kind of day for my muse - I love these kinds of days. At the end of the morning, we were treated to a wonderful organic lunch, prepared by Terrapin Hill - most of the food was grown or raised on the farm. We ate several different varieties of tomatoes, dill pickles, bread 'n butter pickles, pasta salad, potato salad, and chicken salad (yes, from organic, free-range chickens). For dessert we were treated to cantalope, peaches, red and yellow watermelon and ice cream.

If you have never visited Terrapin Hill Farm, I encourage you to do so. There annual Harvest Festival is coming up September 24 - 27th.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

I was so thrilled when Katerina Klemer choose my "Cool Beans" poem to read on her radio program, Accents, on August 21st. To hear the program for yourself, check out Accents and click on August 21, 2009.

COOL BEANS

If you come from Kentucky,or any Southern state, you know about the delicacy known to all as beans;soup beanskidney beansnavy beansbaked beans.Try as I might, I never acquired the taste for this healthy food of my parents and forefathers;Kentucky pole beanshalf runnersRoma flatsBlue Lakes.Staples from the victory garden,favored veggie of many home canners,A bounty found in autumnbeneath the harvest moon.Chili beansred beans and riceLima beans, oh yuck;recalling days I was made to clean my plate of these icky, mushy pods.My taste runs more to sweeter beans – okay, not veggies at all;jelly beans andvanilla beans andcoffee beans brewed on ice.Occasionally I am tempted by a taco pizza with refried beans,but Mexican jumping beans are really more my style,pretty to look at instead of beans to taste;And that’s really cool beans to me.

I feel like a dog without a bone - a fish out of water - Harry without his wand. We've been out of our home for 10 days now and I'm starting to go stir crazy! Don't get me wrong, I love my mom-in-law to death, but her house is just not my house. I feel like we are an imposition, even though she tells us it's fine.

The electricians can yesterday and got all the old wiring and the breaker box ripped out. They are supposed to start on the re-wiring this afternoon. Keep your fingers crossed they can finish by Friday because the electrical inspector visits our area on Fridays. With a little luck we may be back at home by the weekend.

Clean-up is coming along very slow - it's hard to clean adequately with no hot water (our home is all electric). One good thing has been my ability to purge items I've been hanging on to for years. I'm looking forward to having a more organized home when we finally move back in.

Thanks for all the thoughts and prayers - they have helped us get through from difficult days!

Monday, August 24, 2009

... or at my house, gets the clean-up done. Progress on our clean-up effort after the fire is slow but sure - the slowness is mainly due to no electricity, so, no hot water. Hot water helps to clean a multitude of messes. Because the house wiring has to be reworked, it may be Wednesday before we have power again, so I'm just making due at the present.

They say, "everything happens for a reason" - we just don't usually know what the reason is, or the reason will come to us later. I have come to the realization that I'm a pack-rat married to a pack-rat and these 2 things don't lead to a neat and tidy household. During the cleaning process this week, the evidence of my pack-ratty ways has been staring me in the face - screaming to be thrown away.

So, while I'm semi-cleaning with cold water and waiting on the electrician to do his magic, I am also taking this time to clear out years of "junk" we have accumulated after 20 years of marriage. Do I really need to keep every single school paper my children have every brought home? Yes, No, I am systematically going through years of papers and picking out the best pieces to save. Do I really need to save every single glass jar I've accumulated in the past 20 years? Yes, No, the majority of these can go to the recycling center - one or two is all any household can use at one time. Do we really need to keep every plastic cup my hubby brings home from Speedway because their soft drinks are so cheap and his commute is so long? Yes, No, there are only 3 of us, and even with the older girls are home with their family, we still don't need a gazillion cups.

The list could go on and on - accumulated sports equipment that hasn't been touched in 10 years, review copies of books I've read but really have no desire to read again, the clothing in size 8 to 22 that I may loss enough weight to wear again, every pair of glasses the 3 of us have ever owned, etc. etc. etc. etc. ....

Thanks to everyone for all your thoughts and prayers this past week. We have been blessed with wonderful families and outstanding friends. I may never know why this happened to us, but I do know it has helped me appreciate life more and I never plan to take life for granted again.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Thanks to everyone for all your thoughts and prayers! Clean-up is going slow, but at least it's going. We still don't have electricity restored, but it should be any day now. I guess on the bright side, this is a good time to do all the painting we've wanted to do - hehe. It is heart-warming to know we have so many friends sending up prayers and well-wishes. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Blog posts, stories and poems are going to be hit and miss this week - can't understand why I'm not in a writing mood! Although I have been jotting down notes, quotes and feelings, so I feel a large writing piece coming on. Hopefully, when we are finally back in the house, I'll be able to relax and start writing again.

We are taking a few hours off clean-up detail this afternoon to go see Quentin Tarantino's INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS. Maybe "killin' nahtzeys" will make me feel better! It'll be 2 1/2 hours won't have to worry about cleaning.

"You probably heard we ain't in the prisoner-takin' business; we in the killin' Nahtzeys business. And cousin, Business is a-boomin'."

Tarantino is in that hit or miss category - people either love him or hate him. As you can probably tell, my family is in the LOVE HIM category. I love his screenwriting (True Romance, Pulp Fiction, From Dusk till Dawn, and Kill Bill Vol. 1 and 2), I love his directing (Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, Jackie Brown, Kill Bill, and Death Proof) and I even love his acting (From Dusk till Dawn, Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, and Death Proof). He also produced Iron Monkey, Four Rooms, Hostel, and Hell Ride.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

I would like to apologize for the lack of posts this week, but my family is in the midst of a major clean-up effort. We had a fire at our home on Tuesday morning. The major damage was to the laundry room - apparently our deep freezer shorted out. We lost everything in that room, but thankful there is no structural damage. We have smoke and water damage in the kitchen and living room, but this can all be cleaned up.

One of the hardest things has been losing our 3 cats - Frankie, Bella and Elinore. For those of you with pets, you can imagine how hard this has been, especially on our daughter. Thankfully, our dog, Rusty, appears to be uneffected, even though he was in the house with the cats.

Please keep us in your thoughts and prayers over the next few days. God spared our home because we very well could have lost everything we own. Thankfully, we weren't home, so God also spared our lives - He is truly great.

Monday, August 17, 2009

How do you react to movies made of your favourite books (or even not-so-favourite books)? Do you look forward to seeing them, or avoid them? Do you like to have read the book before seeing the movie?

I'm one of those people who think a movie can never be as good as the book - however, there are exceptions to the rule.

Everyone loves the movie The Wizard of Oz - it is a timeless classic. The problem is, most of the children today - and many of their parents - have never read the original book by L. Frank Baum, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. I think it's funny that most people don't know there were NO ruby slippers in the book - the shoes were silver. Or that Glinda was the name of the Good Witch of the South, not the North. Most people think Dorothy dreamed her visit to Oz, when in fact, she actually did go to the Land of Oz. I think it's a shame most people have not read any of the 16 original books by Baum about the Land of Oz.

I loved the book The Horse Whisper, but I hated the movie - they totally changed the ending of the movie so it was unrecognizable from the book. I also had problems with the movie DUNE - as a stand alone movie, it was okay, but it strayed too far from the book for my taste. I enjoyed the book Sahara, but detested the movie. I also love the children's book The Polar Express, but thought the movie was boring. The Golden Compass, based on the book Northern Lights, should have been the beginning of a great series for kids, but the movie was lacking so much over the book.

There are some movies I think are faithful to the books, even if some detail is left out or changed. I enjoyed the Lord of the Rings trilogy and so far have enjoyed the Harry Potter movies, even though many things have been left out of both because of the length of the books. To Kill a Mockingbird was true to the book, as was The Spiderwick Chronicles, The Kite Runner, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (the Tim Burton version), The Green Mile, and Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.

There are very few movies I enjoy better than the books, but I do have one or two favorites. Secret Garden is based on the short story Secret Garden, Secret Window and although I enjoy the story, I think the movie is wonderful and it is in my top 25 movies. Cold Mountain is a great book, but the imagery and visuals in the movie are outstanding. I really didn't like the book BLOW, but I loved the movie - maybe it was Johnny Depp, I don't know.

I love the saying:

Books - Read the Movie

I think this is what everyone should do because there is something powerful about the written word. However, I realize there are many non-readers in the world who enjoy seeing movies, I just wish they wouldn't take the movie as the whole story. So many times, the movie just doesn't compare to the enjoyment of reading the words and having the pictures form in your imagination.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Congratulations to Tony Sexton and Earl P. Dean on your successful book launch/mixer yesterday at the Kentucky Fudge Company. Tony has just released his first book of poetry, "Scraps," and Earl has release a science fiction novella, "A Tailor Maiden's Secret."

Saturday, August 15, 2009

If you come from Kentucky,or any Southern state,you know about the delicacy known to all as beans;soup beanskidney beansnavy beansbaked beans.Try as I might, I never acquired the tastefor this healthy food of my parents and forefathers;Kentucky pole beanshalf runnersRoma flatsBlue Lakes.Staples from the victory garden,favored veggie of many home canners,A bounty found in autumnbeneath the harvest moon.Chili beansred beans and riceLima beans, oh yuck;recalling days I was made to clean my plate of these icky, mushy pods.My taste runs more to sweeter beans –okay, not veggies at all;jelly beans andvanilla beans andcoffee beans brewed on ice.Occasionally I am tempted by a taco pizza with refried beans,but Mexican jumping beans are really more my style,pretty to look at instead of beans to taste;And that’s really cool beans to me.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Why does unfaithfulnesscome to ones you've sworn to love?Does one fall out of love,or were they never in love at all?Till death us do part are the sacred words,but some can't stay true to the vow.Maybe it was lust and not true love,or maybe the love of butterfliesbeating a tempo inside the chest is the feeling you've come to love?But when the graceful wings are gone,so, too, is the love,or are we really meant for one person,does God offer contingencyfor those who are unsure?Are soul mates made up by poetsto describe an unending bond,or are we really destined to mate our cosmic love?Sometimes the butterflies are truly missed,beating inside my chest,but I've found my one true loveand though we didn't start out together,the hand of fate stepped inand now we're wedded soul matesuntil the blissful end.

The mirrors turn in,reflecting past sins, grievances,showing hallow ghosts of shining hopes and dreams,with no way to keep at bay the dark and sorted nightmares.Does the Bogey man existlike beings of daytime hours;or is he like the man in the moon,only showing when a cycle is full?Creeping darkness under the bed,or a slightly cracked closet doorscaring even dust bunnies awaylike particles dancing in a sun beam.The stars may sparkle to mimick a diamondwith all its Teflon facets,and waves may ripple the water surfacelike warbles upon the glass.Hopes and dreams are sharedwith those closest to our heartwishing for a brighter way to end this foolish slump.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

When a soul is being ripped apart,feelings and emotions come oozing through the cracks and arereflected in loved one's eyes.Staining, tainting, begging for release,lost in a swirling world of misery.Locked in a bubble of isolation, growing with each passing day,suffocating depression, clawing a deeper hold,stifling, swallowing the last ounce of happiness.Make it stop, push the magic button to make things alright.The disconnected brain and the parallel heart,each traveling the same road;only - what's the problem, what went wrong?Desolation fills the empty soul and baths the aura in bleakness and torment,never giving up, never giving in.Intelligent enough to know betterbut unable to stop the pain devouring all hope.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

"Come on, you silly goose," laughed Devan, "you'll have fun. I promise." Devan had Jade's dainty hand clasped in his larger hand as was pulling her toward the carnival carousal.

"Don't tell me you've never ridden a merry-go-round. What've you been doing, living under a rock?" His fresh face glowed with excitement as he flashed his famous white smile. Devan never failed to attract the attention of men and women alike. He was born with the looks of natural beauty and he had the personality to go along with it. He was the typical boy-next-door and it never ceased to amaze Jade what a good friend he had turned into.

Since arriving on Earth a little over a year ago, Jade had acclimated herself into life on Earth with remarkably few problems. Michael had been her first friend and they continued to share a studio apartment. But Devan, Devan was just a joy to be around.

"Step right up, step right up - come on young man, take the little lady for a ride." The carousal operator looked like a rough neck from the wrong side of the tracks with his slick, greasy hair and three day face stubble. Devan pulled Jade up to him and handed him two tickets.

"Step right up, little lady, no waiting. Just pick the horse of your choice."

Devan tugged her hand and Jade stepped up on the platform. Surrounded by dozens of carousal horses, she felt overwhelmed with emotions. During all her preparations for her mission to Earth, the Elders of Jadocon had never shown her anything like this monstrosity of fake horses.

"Come on Jade, pick a horse," said Devan.

"I don't know, Dev," she replied with a quiver in her voice.

"Well, you're not backing out now," and he scooped her up in his muscular arms and seated her on the closest horse. Jade clung to the brass pole connecting the brown and white horse to the platform. Devan hopped on the black horse right next to her.

"See - nothing to be afraid of," he laughed.

When the carousal started to move, Jade cried out and hugged the pole even tighter. The horse started moving up and down and the music started to play.

Then something amazing happened, Jade started to enjoy herself. Realizing she wasn't going to fall off, she let herself relax. Then she started to laugh and her smile mirrored a crescent moon.

Devan looked over at Jade and thought he had never seen anyone as beautiful as the mysterious girl beside him. Blond hair wildly blowing in the breeze, dark eyes sparkling, infectious laughter pouring from her lush lips, he knew there was no one on Earth to compare to her.

Unfortunately, Devan would never know how close to the truth he had come.

I see you every morning when you awakeI see you fixing your lunch and preparing for workI see you when you kiss me goodbye, wishing me a good day

I see you every afternoon as I look around our comfortable homeI see you even when you aren't hereI see you when you call with the 30 minute warning as I prepare our supper

I see you with a happy heart when you finally arrive for the nightI see you as you relish your meal and settle in for the eveningI see you as we share our day, sometimes in words or in comfortable silence

I see you as we call it a night, express our love and head for bedI see you in my fractured dreams, you're always on my mindI see your essence, I see your heart, my eyes can see your love

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

(Photo by Simply Heather)(This picture prompted an additional scene near the beginning of the young adult book I'm working on, The Harrodsport Chronicles.)

The Harrodsport Chronicles

Charlie stood on the porch and looked at the old oak door. The door knob was small and ornate like something from the Victorian era. Was that a wolf delicately engraved in the knob? No, it's just something that looks like a wolf - the rest of the ironwork is too fancy for it to be something as crude as a wolf.

Charlie glanced behind her as the social worker and the chauffeur were removing the suitcases from the trunk of the limousine. In the background she could still see the trees which lined the long curvy driveway from the main road. She knew the ocean was close because she could hear the waves crashing, but the treeline obscured the view.

Turning back to the door, she raised her tiny hand to knock on the heavy door, but at the same moment, the golden oak door swung open to reveal an older, petite woman with striking black hair.

"Welcome to Rosewood Manor, Charlene! I'm your Aunt Elizabeth. We've been waiting a long time to meet you."

Down by the lonely watering hole sat a Gnome, resting against a tree with his hat in his lap taking a quiet nap. It had been a long morning in the garden and after tugging and pulling on weed after weed, the Gnome was utterly exhausted. In his dreams fluttered visions of cake and ice cream, an appropriate reward for a hard working Gnome.

Suddenly, the Gnome jolted awake and with groggy eyes, searched his surroundings for the source of the disruption that disturbed his nap. Marigolds to the left of him, Pansies to the right and wave after wave of Daisies in front of him, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“Hmmm,” he thought. “Wonder what woke me up?” Determining nothing was a rye; he slumped back against the tree and closed his eyes again.

“Ah hum,” said a small voice.

The Gnome literally jumped out of his skin and in the blink of any eye was standing on his two stout feet and shouting, “Who’s there?”

“I did,” said a tiny voice coming from under a weeping Japanese maple tree.

“Come out where I can see your face, right this minute,” said the Gnome.

“I’m here,” said the voice. A miniature Faerie stepped out from under the tree and looked up at the towering Gnome.

The Gnome looked at the Faerie and then bent over with his nose almost touching the ground in order to get a better look.

“Well, hello little Faerie. Where did you come from?”

“It’s a long story, but I could sure use your help,” said the Faerie.The Gnome lowered his outstretched hand to the Faerie and she took a tentative step toward it. “You won’t eat me, will you Mr. Gnome?” He could hear the quiver in her voice.

“Of course not, gentle Faerie. I am a friend to all nature’s beings. I just want to bring you up to eye level so we can converse.” He gave the Faerie a small and continued to hold his hand very still.

With only a slight hesitation, the Faerie walked onto the Gnome’s hand and wrapped her slender arms around his thumb.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

As I lay in bed, drifting between the layers of sleep and dream, I felt something tickle my nose. At first I thought it was part of a dream - tickle, tickle; a feather light touch on the end of my nose. Raising my hand as though it were in pea soup, I rubbed a finger over the tips of my nose.

All was right with the world as my body sank deeper and deeper into sleep. Butterflies were floating above a field of wildflowers; yarrow, coneflowers, goldenrod and ironweed. Birds were chirping a delightful little melody that reminded me of Snow White when she sings “Whistle While You Work.” The sky was the clearest blue I had ever seen, sparkling sapphire with large fluffs of white clouds like albino cotton candy from the fair.

Tickle, tickle. There is was again, something creeping into my subconscious and knocking on the door to my dreams. Slowly swimming to the surface, I thought the feathery touch was now on my right cheek. But no, that couldn’t be. The butterflies were too afraid to come near me and I was standing no where near any of the wildflowers. In fact, I was standing in a circular meadow in the middle of the flowery field, knee deep in lush green grass.

Tickle, tickle. I brush my cheek with a limp hand, searching for the intruder disturbing my rest. There, that is much better; now I can return to the meadow in comfort.

Now a fawn is wobbling onto the edge of the meadow, seemingly unaware of me standing before him. Each step is tentative and from the shakiness of his long legs, he can only be a few days old. I wonder where his mother is, but my mind is distracted by the scampering of a squirrel up the walnut tree to my right. A bushy tail is all I glimpse as the squirrel races into an open cavity in the tree’s trunk.

The fawn is now statue still with his nose lifted into the air. I can almost see the smells cross his sense, and I wonder what is about to happen. But I don’t have to wait long as a full grown deer leaps into the meadow, startling the fawn into a defensive crouch. I hold my breath for a brief moment watching the scene before me. Then the fawn stands and walks to his mother before gently sucking her teet.

Tickle, tickle. I look around and see the honey bees busily working the flowers for nectar. Surely they had not come close enough to touch me? ...............

About Me

I am a married mother of 3 grown daughters and I have 2 granddaughters and 1 grandson. I currently have a gardening column in the Sunday's Advocate Messenger and I freelance for Kentucky Monthly magazine and Examiner.com.